Between Me and Home
by Dreamin
Summary: A modern-era take on Richard and Anne's relationship. What if love were more powerful than ambition? Based on The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses' version of "Henry VI" and "Richard III."
1. Prologue

A/N: This story is basically my love letter to _The Hollow Crown: The Wars of the Roses_. It touched me deeply and I want to do it justice.

I'm taking the Wars of the Roses and setting it 500+ years later. I'm also filling in some of the gaps that Shakespeare left in Richard's life with information (via Wikipedia) about the real Richard. Beyond that, everything else I'm making up as I go.

The prologue is taken directly from Richard's soliloquy at the end of the episode "Henry VI part 2." (In the play, it's the end of the 3rd part of _Henry VI_ , Act III, Scene II.)

* * *

With the sounds of battle still ringing in his ears and the blood of his cousins Warwick and Prince Edward of Lancaster drying on his hands, Richard Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester, drove his black Land Rover back to London as fast as the traffic would allow. His preferred method of transport was the Jag, but since he didn't want that anywhere near a battlefield, the Land Rover was his only other option.

As the miles stretched in front of him, he felt his mind wander. _Finally, a decisive victory for the House of York. Edward will be the unchallenged King of England, once my self-appointed task is done. God… I wish Ed had died today, then none of his heirs would get between me and the throne. I've dreamt of sovereignty my entire life, ever since Father decided to exercise his right to the throne, but the crown has always remained out of reach. If I were whole, nothing and no one would stand in my way, but as such…_

 _If I can't get the crown, what's left for me? I know! I can charm the ladies of the court. Women love a man who's deformed._ He groaned quietly. _I can't even convince myself of that lie. Honestly, I'd have more success getting twenty crowns than one woman's heart._ An image of his cousin and childhood friend Anne came to mind but he dismissed it just as quickly. _Since I just made her a widow, she'll never want me. My body is so disproportionate that no woman could ever want me – this damn hump that rivals Everest on my back, a spine with more twists than some cheap novel, my left arm nearly useless, one leg longer than the other... No woman even looks at me twice. So, since I cannot be happy in love, I will be happy in a crown._

 _Even after today's work is done, there are still too many people between me and the crown. It teases, torments me but I will have it, one way or another. I'll be the pleasant fellow they all expect, while hiding my true feelings. I will be the consummate actor. I will be whatever I need to be and then I will have that which is rightfully mine, no matter how long it takes._

The guards of the Tower of London were happy to see him and even happier to see the bribe he'd brought. As he was led to Henry VI's cell, Richard pulled his stiletto from its sheath.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: This chapter is based on the "Winter of Our Discontent" speech at the beginning of the _Richard III_ episode/play. I stole the conversation about Richard always wearing black from a t-shirt. What can I say, it was too good to pass up.

Chapter 1 takes place 10 years after the Prologue.

* * *

While some European monarchs were little more than living reminders of a system long-past, England's monarch was still the richest and most powerful person in the kingdom, and they never let anyone forget it. No sitting on the sidelines while Parliament did the real governing, they both reigned and governed. Parliament was necessary for keeping the monarch aware of the needs of England's people, but the monarch always had the final say. Good monarchs were beloved while corrupt monarchs were usually overthrown, otherwise the people of England had to wait for the monarch's heir to succeed and pray the heir would be better.

With all of the power and wealth at the monarch's fingertips, it should be of no surprise that even in the 21st Century, people were still fighting long and bloody civil wars to get and keep the crown. The crown currently lay on the head of Edward IV, a Plantagenet of the Yorkist side of the family. As he had taken the crown by force from his gentle, ill-suited Lancastrian cousin Henry VI, Edward was desperate that his son would inherit peacefully.

He had no idea what his younger brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, had planned.

* * *

Richard reached out to take his turn on the chessboard. His close friend Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham had just emailed him a turn and Richard knew exactly how to counter that. _If only obstacles in life were as easy to overcome as those on a chessboard._ The mantle clock chimed seven, reminding him that he needed to make an appearance at Edward's party.

 _It's Christmas Eve and after all of the strife, the peace brought by Edward, popular, beloved Edward, makes it feel like summer in December._ He smirked at his reflection in his silver goblet. _The mild weather may also have a part in that. Our enemies are long-dead except for that witch Margaret of Anjou, and she's safely back in France. Instead of making war, everyone's busy making love. Edward's brood alone grows yearly. Rumor has it he has taken a mistress or three. After all the trouble he went to for Elizabeth, he's a fool if those rumors are true._ Richard rolled his eyes. _What am I thinking? Of course the rumors are true._

He pulled on an undershirt one-handedly. Though it took him twice as long to dress as it did men with two good arms, he insisted on dressing himself like any able-bodied adult. _Edward can have any woman he wants, but I can't get a single woman to look at me favorably, let alone a harem like his. Nature cheated me of any handsomeness I was owed from my parents. It even cheated me of a full nine months in my mother's womb. Perhaps if I hadn't been premature, I might have had the full use of both arms. Mother insists that my birth was her most painful and she has never forgiven me for it. Anne thought Mother felt guilty for whatever part she played in my condition, but I doubt that is the case._ Thoughts of Anne brought his mood down farther, as they always did these days. He hadn't seen or heard from his former best friend in almost fifteen years. The last he heard, she was still living in exile in France.

A black silk button-down shirt was next. Richard smiled to himself as he remembered a time he was asked why he always wore black.

"I'm going to a funeral," he replied.

"Whose?" the man asked.

"Wait."

Of course, the other man thought he was joking.

 _This incessant peace is driving me mad. Without war to occupy my time or a lover to occupy my heart, I'll do what I must. Since there are no Lancastrians left, I'll wage war on my fellow Yorkists. I've convinced the court psychic to tell Edward his most dire prophecy – that Edward will be murdered by someone close to him with the initial G._ He smiled a bit. _The man is simply waiting for "when the stars are right." Edward's not the brightest man, I'm sure he'll blame George without even considering me. I'll have to make sure that psychic only tells Edward good prophecies from now on. The last thing I need is for him to get suspicious of me as well. Of course, I will tell George that Elizabeth hates him but that he can trust me completely._

As soon as he entered the dining hall, conversations around him died. Used to such a reception, he ignored the courtiers as he made his way to the head table, where Edward was drinking and eating like there was no tomorrow. _There really will be no tomorrow for him if he keeps this up. The court doctor just throws up his hands whenever someone enquires after the king's health. "Too much wine and meat and not enough exercise."_

He bowed to his brother and mother then pasted on a smile for the rest of the family before taking a seat at the far end of the table. A servant offered him a glass of wine and he asked for water instead. Despite how much red wine helped to ease his chronic pain, he preferred to keep a clear head around his family.

George smiled at him, already three sheets to the wind. "Anne's in town, did I mention that?"

Despite his thoughts grinding to a complete halt at the news, Richard schooled his features to hide his shock. "I didn't know she was even in England," he said casually.

The Duke of Clarence grinned triumphantly. "That's because I didn't want you to know, Dick."

He ground his teeth at the hated nickname. Coming from almost everyone, it sounded like an insult. Raising his glass, he smiled tightly. "You've actually managed to keep something from me and my spies. Well done, George."

George raised his own glass in turn before draining it. "She's been living with me and Isabel for the past three years. For her safety, of course."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "So, her vast inheritance has nothing to do with it?"

His older brother grinned. "Well … she does need someone to keep an eye on her finances. Women are horrible with money."

 _I'm not going to regret your death in the least._ "Why is she in London?"

"She said she wanted to pay her respects. She'll be going to Henry's grave tomorrow night."


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: According to Wikipedia, the real Richard III lived with his Neville cousins either from the age of 9 to 12 or from the age of 12 to 16. I decided to go with the former since there'd be no hormones to deal with.

* * *

That night, while the rest of the family slept, Richard stayed awake, as usual, and plotted. If he tried to sleep at night, his mind would plague him with nightmares. The one time he mentioned it to his mother, she said that the nightmares were the result of a guilty conscience. Richard instead blamed them on the stress of dealing with his family.

Avoiding his family Christmas morning was the easiest thing he'd done all year – he simply drove to his London flat before everyone else was awake. Since he bought it with his own money, his family had no idea of its existence and Richard fully intended to keep it that way. The flat only had the barest of necessities – he rarely used it and when he did, it was never for more than a day or two at a time.

As soon as he walked into the bedroom, he slowly and methodically stripped down to his pants then laid down on the bed. He knew he should rest but his thoughts kept returning to Anne. A moment when they were still living under the same roof replayed in his mind.

 _Flopping onto his bed, Richard held up the letter he still had clutched in one hand. The elegant stationery paper was now crinkled but he could clearly make out his mother's concise script, specifically the part where she suggested he stay with his Neville cousins for another four years._

" _That bitch…" he muttered._

" _Language," came Anne's too-cheery voice from the doorway._

 _He tried to glare at her but found, like every other time she was around him, that he couldn't. Anne was the only friend he had at Middleham Castle. Everyone else tolerated him, barely. She alone sought him out and gave him reasons to smile._

" _I can swear if I want to," he muttered. "I'm twelve."_

" _Well, I'm nine and I'm not supposed to be around people who swear," she said. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she gently eased the letter from his hand then smoothed it out and read it, her brown eyes becoming larger with every word. "Wow…" She looked down at him. "Um, you were right. Why is she like that?" She held out the letter to him._

 _Richard took it back, one-handedly crumpled it up into a ball, then tossed it into the bin beside the bed. "She's always hated me. It's because I'm…" he waved a hand to indicate his body, "like this. She acts like it's my fault, like I asked to be this way."_

" _I don't think there's anything wrong with you," Anne said gently._

 _Richard stared at her. "Have you gone mad?"_

 _She scowled in confusion. "No."_

" _Blind?"_

" _No."_

" _Then how can you say-"_

 _She shrugged nonchalantly. "You're different, that's all. There's nothing wrong with being different."_

 _Richard sat up slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "You really think that?"_

" _Yes. You're my friend, Dick. You're the smartest person I know."_

 _He managed a small smile. "And you're the nicest person I know, Annie."_

 _She smiled at him brightly and he felt better already._

Richard stared up at the ceiling and let out a quiet sigh. _We were happy once._ _ **I**_ _was happy once. Then George insisted that Mother let me come back with him and I didn't see Anne for years. The last time was George and Isabel's engagement party. If I had known then what Warwick had planned for her… Well, none of that matters now – her father, her husband, and her king are dead and Anne couldn't hate me more if she tried. And yet…_

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his mobile chirping. Picking it up, he opened the text.

 **Mother's wondering where you are. G**

 **Tell her my Christmas gift to her is my absence. R**

The response came five minutes later.

 **She says it's her favorite gift this year, possibly ever. G**

Richard rolled his eyes then shut off his phone and finally let himself sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: This was inspired by the engagement scene in the play. In this alternate 2017, the royal family still lives at the medieval Palace of Westminster (Parliament meets elsewhere).

* * *

Just before sunset, Richard drove the Jag to the Tower of London. Despite the considerable number of people who still called for Henry to have a proper royal burial, his body lay in a simple grave in the woods on the edge of the property. At his mother's insistence, Richard had paid for the headstone himself. _A penance for a sin I don't regret._

Several yards from the grave, he sat down with his back against a tree. It wasn't long before the chill made his muscles ache even more than usual. Silently cursing himself for not bringing some wine to take the edge off, Richard kept his eyes on the back of the headstone and waited.

Over an hour after sunset, he woke from a light doze to the sound of leaves crunching. The full moon came out from behind a cloud, revealing Anne standing in front of the grave, a torch in hand. Her brown leather boots were ankle deep in fallen leaves, dark blue jeans encased her shapely legs, and a brown hooded coat concealed the rest of her from him. Despite the danger of being out at night, she was completely alone and, he knew from experience, unarmed. _She is far too trusting._ Silently getting to his feet, he watched her kneel then he had to hold back a groan when she pulled back the hood. Her dark brown hair was pulled away from her face in a loose bun, leaving her already wet brown eyes in full view. Anne pulled a fallen branch from the headstone and replace it with half a dozen Lancastrian red roses. Richard rolled his eyes over her display of House loyalty.

"Damn that man," she muttered darkly. "He is lower than the most vile, disgusting creature I can name. If he ever marries, I wish his wife nothing but misery. Oh, who am I kidding? No woman on Earth could want such a man."

Richard liked to think of himself as thick-skinned after so many years of hurtful words from family and strangers alike, but Anne's words cut him deeply. With a scowl, he pushed his feelings aside. _It's nothing I didn't already know._ Taking a deep breath then pasting a pleasant smile on his face, he moved out of the deep shadows of the trees and into the moonlight.

Anne groaned quietly when she saw him. "Speak of the devil." He started to move closer but she quickly rose and held up a staying hand, glaring at him. "What in the **hell** are you doing here, Richard?"

"Waiting for you." He came closer, stopping a couple of feet from her. "Hello, Anne," he greeted her softly. "You used to call me Dick; that name only sounds right coming from you. I'd give anything to hear you call me that again." _Wait, where did that come from? Oh well, I suppose a truth amidst the lies makes the lies more believable._

"Never," she said, her voice ice-cold. "You're not the boy I knew. You're lawless, faithless, merciless... God, even an animal knows pity."

Richard smirked. "Never let it be said that I am an animal."

"Finally, he speaks the truth," she muttered. "I thought you had forgotten how." Her cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes glittered with anger.

"God, you're beautiful when you're angry." _Another truth. If I don't stop this now, I'll be pouring my heart out to her like some lovesick fool._ "Dearest Anne, I just need a moment of your time to explain myself."

She clenched her hands into fists. "There is nothing you could do or say that would make me forgive you for killing my entire family."

"I didn't kill Ned." _A blatant lie and she knows it._

"Oh! My mistake! Here I thought I was a widow."

He groaned. "What I meant is that my brother killed Ned, not me."

"Do not lie to me! Margaret saw you kill him!" She was shaking with fury then she took a deep breath, then another. After she calmed down, she asked, "Will you at least admit that you killed the king?"

He sighed heavily. "Fine, yes."

She looked back at the headstone. "Henry was a good man, he didn't deserve such a death."

Richard laid a hand on the stone cross. "Too good for this world, so I sent him to Heaven."

She glared at him. "A place you'll certainly never see – you're bound for Hell."

He leaned closer. "There is one other place I'm meant for."

"Prison?"

Richard deepened his voice, murmuring, "Your bedroom." She stared at him like he'd slapped her and he knew he'd gone too far. Deciding to try again, he asked, "Isn't the person who inspired the murders as much to blame as the murderer?

The look in her eyes was doubtful. "Who could have inspired you? I would think your own blind ambition was enough."

"Your beauty inspired me, Anne," he murmured. "It invaded my dreams. I would kill anyone just to spend an hour in your arms."

Anne rolled her eyes. "If I actually believed that, murderer, I'd scratch my face to ribbons."

"I could never allow that." He took her hand. "It's unnatural to hate the man who loves you."

She snatched her hand back. "It's natural to hate the man who killed my husband."

He raised his good hand to her cheek. "What if he did it so you would be free to find a better man?"

She waved his hand away. "There's no better man alive than my Ned."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "You must be joking, Anne. It was an arranged marriage, you only met him a week before the wedding, then you were married all of five months – you barely knew him. There's a man who loves you more than Ned ever could."

"Who?" She looked as though she dreaded the answer.

"Me."

She spat in his face.

 _Good aim,_ he thought, wiping away the spit with the back of his hand as he reined in his temper. "Why would you do that?"

"You deserve much worse," she said coldly. "I wish it were venom instead."

Richard grinned. "You are far too sweet to be venomous."

"And you are viler and more toxic than any toad. Get away from me! I'm getting ill just looking at you." She turned away.

"And I become ill if I don't look at you. If you can't forgive me, then don't hurl your insults at me – your lips were made for kissing, Anne, not cursing." He knelt before her and she turned back to him. Pulling his stiletto from it sheath, he offered her the handle. "Take my knife." His hand trembled slightly, but he attested that to the physical strain he was under, certainly not nerves.

She took it, gripping the handle tightly, her expression gravely serious.

He opened his coat, unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled aside the collar of his undershirt. "Kill me, if you feel it is the just thing to do, but know that you are killing the man who loves you."

Anne looked at the knife in her right hand then she held the tip to the index finger of her left. The needle-sharp tip pierced the skin and a drop of blood oozed out.

Richard's eyes widened slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure this isn't a bluff."

He took her hand then brought the finger to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. "Don't you trust me, Anne?" he murmured then he took her injured finger in his mouth, sucking on it.

She snatched her hand back then held the knife to his chest like he'd urged her.

He grinned. "Don't hesitate. I admit it, I did kill the king, your father, and your husband."

He held his breath and for a moment, he honestly thought she would go through with it, so strong was the hatred in her eyes. Then she shut her eyes, dropped the knife, and took a step back.

Richard picked up the knife and held it out to her again. "Kill me or marry me, Anne. Those are the only two options left for us."

She glared at him. "For God's sake, Richard, stand up. You deserve to die but it won't be by my hand."

He held the knife to his chest. "Then order me to kill myself and I will."

"Put that damn knife away," she said quietly. "You're not dying because of me."

He did as he was told then looked at her hopefully. "Then you'll marry me?"

"I didn't say yes."

"But you're not saying no either. I need you, Anne." He sounded so desperate even to his own ears but he had to admit there was some truth in it.

"What you need are heirs. You can have those with any woman."

"Fine, yes, I need heirs, but I also need a companion, someone to stand by me during the day and lay beside me at night. You are the only person who could fill that role." He removed the ring from his left little finger and held it out to her. It had belonged to his great-grandfather Edmund, the first Duke of York – a gold diamond men's ring from the early 1920's. "Please, agree to wear this ring."

She swallowed hard and it was an agonizing wait before she spoke. "I accept your ring but I'm not giving you my heart."

"That is enough, for now." He took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her ring finger. "My ring surrounds your finger the same way your hand holds my heart." He slowly got to his feet. "Will you do me one favor?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Accompany me to Westminster."

She stared at him. "Richard … we can't marry tonight."

"I mean the palace, not the abbey. I might as well tell my family before we do anything else." He smirked. "The idea of another royal wedding should make my mother almost happy enough to forget it's me who is getting married."

She scowled in confusion. "Aunt Cecily still hates you? I would have thought she'd mellowed by now."

"That woman will hate me to her dying day, then she will hate me beyond the grave." He held out his good hand. "Please, Anne, come with me. I'd rather not face her alone just now."

She sighed softly. "Alright... Richard, promise me one thing."

He didn't hesitate. "Name it."

"Promise me you'll never lie to me."

He let his hand drop. "Anne…"

"You lie to everyone, even yourself." Her voice and expression softened. "You need one person in your life you can be truly honest with, I want that person to be me."

 _She has no idea what she's asking._ "There are some truths you don't want to hear."

"Let me be the judge of that."

"Fine," he muttered.

"Thank you. What about my car?"

"I'll have Catesby get it in the morning. He always complains I don't give him enough to do." He tried hard not to jump when she took his good hand, the torch in her other hand as they walked away from the grave.

 _She thinks I've reformed, that I'm a good man. Ha! This is a marriage made for the divorce courts. Now that I've made a woman who hated me agree to marry me, I know I can do anything. The crown will be mine._


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: None of Shakespeare's scenes in this one. As far as I can tell, in the play, Richard and Anne get married right after the engagement scene. I wanted to stretch that out a bit.

* * *

He held the passenger door for her as she got into the Jag then walked around to the driver's side and got into the car. Anne glanced at the customized controls but didn't comment on them, for which he was grateful. She did take the time to admire her ring before the overhead light turned off.

"What are we going to tell your family?" she asked as they drove away from the Tower.

"The truth – you agreed to marry me." He smirked, his eyes still on the road. "I suggest we leave out the part about the knife."

"You know they're going to question my sanity and your sincerity." She looked out the window at the passing buildings. "To be honest, I question them too." Her voice was quiet.

 _Is that regret I hear?_ Richard let out a sigh. "I should have known I didn't have you fooled." _I can't let my guard down around her, ever._ "Did you believe any of it?"

Anne looked back at him. "I know you don't love me. You've never let yourself love anyone."

"I was not made to love." He kept his tone unemotional. _Can't have her reading something into it._

"Bullshit," she said firmly.

"Language," he replied automatically, smirking.

Anne rolled her eyes. "You have a heart, Richard, you just don't know how to use it. Aunt Cecily's at least partially to blame for that."

"'Completely' would be more accurate," he muttered.

"I refuse to believe that," she said firmly. "You grew up knowing your father and brothers loved you."

"And then Father and Edmund were killed."

"You still had Edward and George."

"They love the man they think I am." He stopped at a red light and looked at her. "No one knows the real me."

"And whose fault is that?" She sighed quietly. "I do believe that you need a companion. No one should be alone, and that includes you."

He thought that over for a moment. "What about the knife?" he asked, his eyes back on the road after the light turned green.

"I haven't decided if you were sincere or not," she said quietly.

 _She certainly seemed convinced at the time._ "Then why did you agree to marry me?"

"You need someone who brings out the best in you. Your family brings out the worst."

 _That's putting it mildly._ "And you think you're up to that task?"

"Yes. I remember the boy you were before your heart completely hardened." She reached over to touch his left hand, still tucked into his side. "I'll find a way to soften your heart, Richard, even if it takes the rest of our lives."

 _Why does that sound like the world's softest threat?_

* * *

Anne tugged at the hem of her cream jumper as they walked to the drawing room. "I'm not exactly dressed for an audience with the king."

He took her hand in his good one. "But you are dressed for a Christmas Night cocktail with my family. That's all this is."

She was about to protest when they arrived at the drawing room door and the butler introduced them.

"His Grace the Duke of Gloucester and Lady Anne Neville."

Every conversation in the drawing room stopped dead. Richard could feel Anne tense beside him in the doorway. A small part of him wanted to reassure her somehow but he knew it was better to just get this over with, like every other Christmas with his family. He pasted on a pleasant smile. "Good evening. Anne and I thought we'd join you."

Unsurprisingly, it was his mother who spoke first. She was seated in the leather armchair by the roaring fire in the fireplace. "Richard, you told your brother that you were staying away today as my present. It's unimaginably rude for you to change your mind."

Still holding Anne's hand, he led her over to the old woman. "I do apologize, dear Mother," he said, pretending to be the dutiful son, "but I have an even better present for you."

Cecily was immediately suspicious. "What might that be? And what is Anne doing here?"

He grinned. "Why, Anne's your present – a new daughter-in-law."

The sound of a glass hitting the hardwood floor somewhere behind him made him grin and Anne start. _Ah, that must be George,_ he thought.

"You're going to marry Anne?" George said in disbelief. "Impossible."

"Why, pray tell?" Richard asked, turning to his older brother, who was seated at the piano. A maid was cleaning up the smashed glass and spilled whisky. "You married her sister." He could see Isabel sitting next to Elizabeth on the sofa, both of them neglecting their tea as they stared at him. "I see nothing wrong with me marrying Anne."

"You did not ask my permission, for one," Edward said testily. He was standing beside the small bar, fixing himself a drink.

Richard shrugged nonchalantly. "I assumed you'd give it."

Edward crossed his arms in front of his chest. "She is Ned's widow, Warwick's daughter, and Henry's daughter-in-law. She is the enemy."

"The House of Lancaster is all but extinct," Richard pointed out. "It's been ten years, I think we can forgive her for her father's betrayal."

"People will talk."

"Good God, Ed," he muttered, throwing up his good hand. "In case you haven't noticed, people talk no matter what we do."

"I forbid-"

"May I speak, Your Majesty?" Anne asked.

Edward blinked in surprise. "Er, yes." At Richard's glare, he added, "And please, call me Edward. We're still family."

"Thank you. I never wanted to marry Ned, but as a dutiful daughter, I obeyed my father. I was a loyal wife for those five months because I felt honor-bound. Believe me, if I had been allowed to choose, I never would have chosen him."

"Who would you have chosen, child?" Cecily asked, curious.

Anne couldn't help a small smile. "Richard, of course."

Richard refused to let the shock he felt show on his face. _She can't mean that. She's an even better actress than I thought._

Cecily looked as shocked as he felt. "I don't understand."

"Richard and I were friends when he lived with us. By the time he had left, I had promised myself that I would marry him someday." She gently squeezed his good hand, the smile she gave him soft and, he couldn't help hoping, sincere. "It took longer than I wanted, but I'm finally able to keep that promise."

Richard was dumbfounded, a feeling he was never comfortable with.

His mother seemed to be as well. "Well … perhaps you will be the one to tame him." She turned to Edward. "I think we should allow the match. At the very least, it'll keep Anne out of the hands of some other enemy."

"Very well," Edward muttered.

It was then that Cecily noticed Anne's ring. "He gave you that old thing? Richard, couldn't you have at least given her a new ring? The diamond on that is so small."

"It's just over half a carat, perfectly fine for Anne's small hand," Richard said defensively. "Anne has no objections, so why should anyone else?"

Cecily turned to Anne. "Anne, dear, you must want something fancier."

Anne was quick to reassure her. "This ring is fine, Aunt Cecily, really."

"Richard wore it every day."

His fiancée smiled. "Then it means more to him than a ring he just bought. That makes it mean more to me."

His mother seemed to realize she was fighting a losing battle. "Very well. Have you set a date?"

"I was thinking of tomorrow," Richard said casually.

"Engaged and married in less than a day?" Cecily asked, aghast. "People will think Anne's pregnant." She narrowed her eyes. "You're not, are you?"

"I'm not, Aunt Cecily, I promise." She lightly elbowed Richard's side.

"I … could be persuaded to make it New Year's." Another nudge. "Or even Epiphany."

"Twelve days still isn't long enough," Cecily declared. "We need at least six months to plan a royal wedding."

"I am not willing to wait six months to make Anne my wife," Richard said firmly. "Besides, as I am currently behind my brothers and their children in the line of succession, I see no reason to make the wedding anything other than a small, family affair."

"He does have a point, Mother," Edward said. "At the very least, a small wedding will prevent the anti-royalists from complaining about how we are spending taxpayer funds."

Cecily sighed quietly. "Very well. That still leaves the date."

"Tomorrow," Richard said.

At the same time, Anne said, "New Year's Eve."

Richard stared at her.

"I would prefer at least Epiphany," Cecily said, "but I think we can make New Year's Eve work. I'll have my secretary prepare a statement for the press tomorrow. You'll be expected to do an interview."

"I think we can handle that," Anne assured her, smiling. She looked at him. "Right, Richard?"

"Er, yes, quite."

"Very well," Cecily said. "Where will you stay until the wedding, Anne?"

"I have a room at the Corinthia."

"She'll be staying with me," Richard said firmly.

"That is highly improper, Richard," Cecily said.

"It's 2017, Mother, and Anne's obviously not a virgin." He smirked. "I think we can safely leave outdated views on pre-martial relations behind."

Edward chuckled. "We'll simply tell the press that Dick and Anne are a modern couple."

Richard inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, brother. On that note, I think Anne and I should leave the rest of you to your festivities." Unsurprisingly, no one protested. "I'll take Anne back to her hotel and bring her back here tomorrow morning."

"Merry Christmas, everyone," Anne said, smiling genially. A few people muttered it back to her.

Mentally rolling his eyes, Richard offered her his good arm. Anne surprised him by moving to his other side and taking his bad arm.

As soon as they were out of earshot, she groaned quietly but didn't remove her hand. "Oh God, your mother is worse than I remembered. It's amazing you survived this long."

"Are you certain you want to go through with this?" he found himself asking. "I doubt she'll be any better as a mother-in-law."

"Trying to get rid of me already?" she joked, smiling a bit. She surprised him again by softly kissing his cheek. "I wouldn't let you deal with that nest of vipers alone for all the money in the world. We are in this together, Richard."

He stared at her a moment. _The most talented actress in the world, that's who I'm marrying._


	6. Chapter 5

They were almost at the hotel when Anne turned to him. "You're staying with me tonight, aren't you?"

Richard glanced at her then turned back to the road. "I wasn't planning on it."

"I'm not about to let you go back to the palace, those people are toxic." She reached out to take his bad hand. "Please, Richard."

"I have a flat they don't know about, for when they become unbearable." _Why am I telling her this? It's supposed to be a secret._

Anne smiled a bit. "So, all the time, then?"

He chuckled. "Mother thinks I've found a hidden room in the palace. The only thing keeping her from searching for me with an infrared camera is the fact that I do show up when necessary." He pulled up in front of the hotel. "I'll call you in the morning."

She took out her phone. "What's your number?" He gave her his number and she entered it into her list of contacts. She gave him her number and he committed it to memory. "Don't call before nine, I'm not an early riser."

"You never were," he said, smiling a bit. "I remember your nanny complaining that getting you out of bed was like prying a board out of the floor."

Anne grinned. "Now it takes two alarm clocks." She leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Richard."

He stared at her a moment as her grin widened. "Er, yes, goodnight."

* * *

Richard was reading _Game of Thrones_ in bed after midnight when his mobile chirped.

 **Can't sleep. I keep thinking about today. A**

He raised an eyebrow.

 **Yes, you made quite a turnaround. Are you sure you want to go through with this? R**

 **Richard Plantagenet, I swear to God, if you ask me that one more time… A**

 _Ah, a threat. Now that's something I'm familiar with._ He grinned as he typed out his reply.

 **You'll what? R**

 **I will come over there and snog you breathless. A**

Both eyebrows shot into his hair. _Definitely not what I was expecting._ _She can't possibly mean that._

 **Fortunately for me, you have no idea where my flat is. R**

 **Oh, so you don't want me to snog you breathless? My mistake. A**

 _Impossible woman,_ he thought, but couldn't help a grin.

 **We never did discuss boundaries. R**

Less than a minute later, his mobile rang. His grin widened when he saw it was her calling then he pressed the button. "Hello, Anne. What was it about my text that compelled you to call me?"

"'Boundaries?'" she asked, sounding very annoyed. "Richard, we are going to be husband and wife, not two warring countries."

He smirked as he leaned against the headboard. "I don't know about that – have you seen some of the marriages out there?"

"Yes, but you and I have one advantage over them."

His smirk grew. "Our towering intellects?"

"We were friends first."

Richard pulled his mobile away from his face to stare at it then brought it back to his ear. "We're friends?"

"We were best friends once," she said softly. "I think we need to be that again."

"You wouldn't want to be friends with me, Anne," he said quietly.

"Hey, none of that," she protested softly. "You sounded so relaxed a moment ago."

His eyes landed on his reflection in the full-length mirror by the closet. Richard winced. _Me in all of my deformed glory._ "It's easy to be relaxed when no one can see you."

"I always see you."

Not knowing how to respond, he ignored that. "Like I said in the text, we need to discuss boundaries."

"Well, you need heirs, so it certainly won't be a sexless marriage." The smile in her voice was clear. "The question is, do we want sex before the wedding?"

His thoughts stopped dead. "Anne…" His voice sounded rough to his own ears.

"Yes?" Her tone was impish.

"You can't possibly want-"

"Oh, I want," she murmured. "Believe me, I want."

"What you wanted was me dead," Richard said quietly.

"That was before I knew that the boy I loved is still there, deep down. I thought he had been lost forever." The fondness in her voice was unmistakable. "I think it's my job to bring that side of you out."

"You … loved me?"

Anne laughed softly. "Well, as much as a nine-year-old could."

He had a sudden need to see her laughing but suppressed it. "But how can you know anything about my character? We've only been together a few hours."

"Your heart is in your eyes, Richard, for anyone who cares enough to look."

 _That certainly leaves out my entire family._ He looked down at himself. "How can you say you want me? I'm a monster."

"Is that you talking or your mother?"

"I know how to use a mirror, Anne," he muttered.

"I disagree. If you did, you would see your handsome face. Of course, it would be even more handsome if you genuinely smiled once in a while. Looking like a thundercloud all the time isn't going to endear you to anyone."

"Has it occurred to you that that might be exactly what I want?" he muttered.

"You don't want it all the time." Her voice softened. "I know how lonely you are, Richard, even if you won't admit it. You want to let someone in but you also don't want to be hurt."

 _This woman is too perceptive._ "You cannot claim I have a handsome body, no matter what you think of my face."

"Since I haven't seen your naked body, I can only guess what you look like. Would you describe yourself for me?"

"Anne…"

"Or you could send me a photo, your choice."

He groaned quietly. _She is going to be the death of me._ He groaned again as he got out of bed then walked to the mirror. His reflection looked back at him and he wondered why she was being so insistent. "I'm pale."

"I already knew that, Richard," she murmured, "just like I know you can't stand up straight. Tell me what your clothes hide."

"My hump is hardly hidden," he muttered. "The whole world can see it."

"Go on," she said, her tone gently encouraging.

He sighed heavily. "My left shoulder-blade, it's severely displaced from my spine curving this way and that. Not that I can see my spine in the mirror, but my mother ever so helpfully showed me photos of my back when I was a child. The flesh below the hump is rippled from being so misaligned."

"What does it feel like when someone touches your back?"

"I wouldn't know, no one has touched me there in years."

There was a pause. "But … you're not a virgin, right?"

Richard walked back to the bed, groaning quietly as he laid down. "I've had sex, though I've always had to pay for the 'privilege.'"

"You've only had sex with prostitutes?"

"The high-end ones I favor prefer to be called courtesans, but yes. No woman would want to be with me if she weren't getting something out of it."

Anne said quietly, "I hadn't heard of you having a girlfriend but I didn't know…" She trailed off. "Richard, I want to be with you. Not for money or power or anything else, just good old-fashioned lust. I truly think we can make each other happy in bed."

"I think you're fooling yourself," he muttered.

"Let me be the judge of that." A smile returned to her voice. "So, that brings us back to my original question – do you want us to have sex before we're married?"

His answer was immediate. "No."

"You want to save something for the honeymoon?"

"I need to work up the courage," he blurted, then winced. _Good God, why did I say that?_

"That is an answer I can respect." She let out a yawn.

He had a sudden urge to have her lying beside him but he pushed it aside. "Goodnight, Anne."

"Mmm, goodnight, Richard."

He tried to go back to his book but his mind kept returning to the call. _That woman will be the death of me, but perhaps it won't be a bad way to go._


	7. Chapter 6

The next morning, Richard was about to call Anne when she called him. _Something tells me this is not going to be an enjoyable conversation._ He pressed the button and asked, "How many?" in lieu of a greeting.

"A dozen and I'm not exaggerating," she muttered. "Where did they all come from?"

"They crawled out of the woodwork, obviously." Despite the tension of the morning, hearing his fiancée's voice relaxed him a bit and he took another sip of his coffee. Richard had woken to his mobile vibrating incessantly at first light. After reading the flood of texts and checking a few social media sites, he realized someone, likely his mother, had informed the press at an ungodly hour of his and Anne's impending marriage. _Now reporters are swarming her hotel._ "I'll come get you."

"Then they'll be all over you," she protested. "No, it's better if we just lay low and let this die down."

"I'm the king's brother and a lifelong bachelor, you're the Dowager Princess of Wales and my first cousin once removed," he said, silently adding, _not to mention the fact that I killed your first husband. That's something else we need to discuss._ "This is not going to 'die down' anytime soon." He groaned quietly. "Pack your bags, I'll have Catesby sneak you out."

"Richard…"

"Don't argue with me, Anne," he said, tempering his words with as much gentleness as he could muster at that hour. _Admittedly, it's not much._ "Catesby will bring you here then the two of us can go to the palace together."

"Must we?" she asked softly. "I'd rather just be alone with you."

The warmth that filled him was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. "'Needs must when the devil drives,' the devil in this case being my mother. She'll want to arrange wedding things with you."

"I should just let her do whatever she wants," Anne muttered.

"Never do that," Richard replied firmly. "Never, ever let my mother have her way in anything. If you do, she will walk all over you from now until Doomsday."

"Is that why you're always arguing with her?"

"One of the reasons, yes – I refuse to ever let her have her way in anything. At least, not without a fight." _The servants have learned to clear the room when a row starts. Unfortunately, my brothers are not as wise._

"I wish you could be free of her," she said quietly.

He smiled a bit. "So do I, but that won't be until one of us dies."

"Now you have me praying that my great-aunt and future mother-in-law doesn't have much longer." He could hear the smile in her voice. "This is a morbid way to start the morning, Richard."

He chuckled. "How do 'normal' people start their day?"

"With a good morning kiss to their partner." There was more than a little playfulness in her tone.

An image flashed in his mind of him kissing Anne awake. He realized he quite liked the image, then he shook his head to clear it. "Rest assured, you won't suffer such treatment from me."

"I wouldn't mind it, actually," she murmured.

More images filled his mind and he pushed them away. "I'd better let you go. Catesby will text you when he arrives."

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit."

* * *

Richard watched Anne's face as she walked into his secret flat and took in the sparse furnishings and completely bare walls. _She looks disappointed._ "Is something wrong?"

She turned back to him, smiling a bit. "To be honest, I was expecting your sanctuary to be a place you could indulge your senses. Luxurious fabrics, artwork, that sort of thing. Spartan isn't really you."

"He saves the high-end furnishings for his rooms at the palace," Catesby said, smirking. "Don't let this place fool you, my lady – His Grace is a hedonist."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Yes, Catesby, thank you. If you'll get the car ready, we'll be along shortly."

His personal assistant bowed then left, chuckling to himself as he closed the door behind him.

Anne came over to him then softly kissed his cheek as she took his hands. "Good morning, Richard." Her smile rivaled the daylight shining through the window.

He couldn't help a small smile. "Good morning, Anne."

Hers turned cheeky. "Is Catesby right?"

He rolled his eyes again. "Yes, yes. It's just as you assumed – I indulge my senses, I just don't do it here."

"Why not? If this is where you go to get away..."

"This is where I hide," he corrected her. "It doesn't need embellishments, it only needs to be far from my family."

Anne murmured, "Once we're married, you and I will be a family. The rest are simply people we're related to."

He stared at her. _How does she do that? How does she make me stop dead with just a few words?_ "I … never thought of it that way."

She smiled fondly. "That's because you've never been married." She slipped her arms around his waist.

Richard tensed but didn't, couldn't shrug her off. "Anne?" he asked warily.

"I wanted our first kiss to be without an audience," she murmured then her lips lightly brushed his.

Something inside him broke at that brief touch. His good hand came up to cup the back of her head as his lips surged to meet hers again. She didn't react at first and he was about to apologize when she suddenly kissed him back with equal fervor. He felt like a condemned man just given his freedom.

 _Or like I've just come home_.

Anne pulled back when they both needed air and the smile on her soft lips was knowing. "So, do you think you'll change your mind?"

"About what?" he asked, confused. He was having a difficult time thinking about anything besides her lips.

"About us having sex before we're married."

He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the thought of being in bed with Anne, something he realized he wanted more and more, but he wasn't ready to tell her that yet. "Er, possibly."

She grinned. "Don't think about it too hard."

Richard rolled his eyes as he tried to get his body and mind under control. "Catesby is waiting."

"Right." She held his good hand as they left the flat. It didn't occur to him to take his hand back.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Things are heating up, so the rating has gone up.

* * *

Richard watched from his customary place in the corner of the drawing room as his mother and fiancée discussed wedding details. Anne's ability to hold her own against Cecily impressed him deeply.

"Tell me, Dick," Edward said as he came over, a glass of wine in hand though it wasn't even close to noon yet, "what did you do to make Anne say yes? I'm guessing it was blackmail."

Richard smirked. "Would you believe I captivated her with my charm?"

His older brother smirked back. "Not in a million years."

He shrugged his good shoulder. "We have a history."

"I wouldn't call killing her first husband 'a history,' but whatever works for you." Edward glanced at his mobile then grinned. "The latest poll shows our popularity has already gone up since the announcement."

"Ah, yes, the announcement," Richard muttered. "Mother's idea?"

"Naturally. Officially, the news came from 'an unidentified source,' you and Anne will confirm it later today."

Richard rolled his eyes. "I hate the press."

"The feeling seems to be mutual, but they love Anne at least." He sipped his wine then clapped a hand on Richard's good shoulder. "Try to be nice, I need all the support I can get."

 _If you were a better king, perhaps you wouldn't be so concerned about your support_ , Richard thought but he simply nodded then walked over to the settee and sat down at Anne's left. He hesitated a moment before putting his good arm around her shoulders.

She laid a hand over his knee and smiled at him then looked back at his mother. "I don't need a dozen attendants, Aunt Cecily. Just Isabel, Elizabeth, and little Lizzie would be fine."

"Nonsense," Cecily sniffed. "I had six bridesmaids and my husband wasn't even a duke at the time. You are marrying the king's brother, you will have a dozen."

"I don't even know a dozen women," Anne said, grinning. "Thanks to my exile, I only know three women who would suit."

"Never mind about that," Cecily said, waving a hand in dismissal. "There are always women of the court who would be eager to participate in a royal wedding."

"That may be," Anne said, her tone firmer, "but considering that I don't know any of them, I wouldn't ask them to participate just to add to my number of attendants. Three is fine."

Cecily raised an eyebrow then looked from Anne to Richard and back before shifting a bit in her chair. "Very well. I suppose the Duchess of Clarence, the Queen of England, and the Princess of York are enough."

Anne grinned. "I knew we could come to an agreement. If you'll excuse us, Richard and I have things we need to discuss before we speak to the press."

 _We do?_ Knowing better than to question Anne in front of his mother, he stood then held out his good hand to her. Anne took it then rose, neither of them waiting for a response from Cecily before leaving the room.

As soon as they were back in his, now their, rooms, she burst out laughing. "Oh God, that felt good…"

"You did well in there," Richard murmured. Giving in to an impulse, he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, his eyes on hers.

She grinned at him. "Thank you for letting me fight that battle on my own."

"I knew you could."

"We need to talk about what the reporters are going to ask us … but first I'd like to make out with my fiancé, if that's not too much to ask."

He stared at her for a moment then rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Anne. We're not a couple of teenagers hiding in my room."

"Correct," she murmured as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "We are adults, and I want to do some very adult things with you. Most of them will have to wait until we have more time, but until then, I want to snog you breathless."

 _I'm already breathless._ "You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm not the sort of man women fantasize about."

Anne rolled her eyes. "Other women might not, but I do. And since you're marrying me and not them, isn't that all that matters?"

He was about to reply when she kissed him softly, stealing his words and, true to her own, his breath. He wrapped his good arm around her. There was a sigh when she molded her body to his, but he wasn't sure who it came from.

 _It was probably me, she feels like … nothing I've ever known, really._ When she moved her soft, soft lips to his jaw and then his neck, he couldn't help a groan. "Anne…"

"Yes?" she asked, all feigned innocence as she licked and kissed a path down his neck, even unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt to make it easier.

"I … I thought you said we were only going to kiss."

"Oh, we are. I'm not undressing you all the way, I just wanted to get at your delectable neck." She nibbled at the point where his neck met his good shoulder.

Richard shivered. "Anne…"

"Hmm?" She licked the hollow of his throat then murmured, "Why don't we move to the sofa?"

 _Or the bed,_ his unhelpful libido supplied. His trousers were already too tight. "We should stop. It's bad enough that I need to … calm down before we speak to the press."

Instead of discouraging her, his words had the opposite effect. Anne murmured in his ear, "Or … we could fix your problem by getting you to a more pleasurable conclusion."

His mind conjured all sorts of scenarios. "You're not exactly helping, Anne," he muttered, but he didn't let her go.

"I am but for some reason, you don't like my suggestion." She lifted her head to meet his eyes. "Why is that, Richard? It should be obvious that I find you attractive." He looked away and she smiled a bit. "This again. What must I do to convince you that I truly want you, all of you?"

"There is nothing you can do. I am a twisted, deformed monster. Nothing about me should inspire lust."

"Your self-hate is one of the few things about you I wish I could change, but only you can do that." She took his hand and led him into the bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind him.

"Anne, we can't-"

"Can't what?" she murmured as she unbuttoned the rest of his shirt buttons, untucking his shirt from his trousers to finish the job. "Can't have sex? Well, not penetrative sex, certainly – the first time we're together, I want us to have all the time in the world." She was about to remove his shirt when he took her wrists in his hands, stopping her. She only smiled. "That does leave several other possibilities, but the one that entices me the most right now is oral sex."

He was about to refuse, but that wasn't what he really wanted. _And she knows it, damn her…_ "Anne…" He sighed heavily. "Very well, but I am not undressing fully, not yet."

She smiled in understanding. "Alright, you can get naked when I do. Where do you want to sit down?"

Richard looked around the room. "Not in a chair, it would feel too much like you're subservient to me."

"The bed?" she murmured. "It'll be our marital bed, after all." She took his hand and led him to it.

He sat down on the edge. "Actually, I was hoping we'd spend most of our time far from Westminster and my damned family."

"Oh?" Anne asked, intrigued, as she knelt between his legs. She glanced at the tent his hardened cock was making in his trousers then raised her eyes to his. "There's always Middleham Castle."

He stared at her. "Anne … the only happiness I knew during childhood was there, with you."

"I know," she said, grinning. "Why do you think I suggested it?"

In reply, he took her face in his hands and leaned forward to kiss her deeply.

She kissed him back, her hands on his shoulders, then she pulled back, beaming at him. "Later, I'll tell the steward we'll take possession right after we're married. But right now…" She undid the fastenings of his trousers, mindful of his now painfully aroused cock, then he lifted his hips so she could slide his trousers and pants to his ankles.

Richard closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face the first time she saw his erect manhood. He opened them when he felt her palms gently stroking his outer thighs.

Anne smiled up at him patiently. "There you are. I want you to be a full and willing participant in this, Richard."

"I am…"

"No lying back and thinking of England?"

He snorted in derision. "I've received, and given, oral sex before." Still, he couldn't help feeling some nervousness.

"Yes," she murmured, "but never with me, just as I've never had it with you. It's different when it's with someone you care about."

Richard nodded. "Yes … very different." He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and he cursed his fair skin. "You, erm, haven't said anything about…" He gestured helplessly to his cock, unable to even say the word to her. _What the hell is the matter with me? It's just sex. Sex with the woman I've come to worship, but it's still just sex._

"This?" Anne asked, grinning, as she wrapped her small, delicate, soft hand around the base of his cock. Her fingers and thumb didn't meet. "I've wondered for a long time about your endowment. I'm very pleased to know my suspicion was right."

"Sus-suspicion?" he stuttered as she started to glide her hand toward the tip.

"Mmm, yes." She grinned wickedly. "I had a feeling that the Good Lord gave you a large cock to make up for what He did to your spine."

Richard groaned at the feeling of her thumb stroking the already leaking tip. "God, Anne…" He shut his eyes, his hands on his thighs. He let out a sigh when she kissed the tip, then gasped when she took the head into her mouth. His eyes shot open as he stared at the woman he loved, yes, loved, slowly take him inch by inch into her mouth. She stopped before he hit the back of her throat, her hand stroking the rest of his length.

He felt lost in sensation as she used her tongue on him, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked his cock. His hands itched to be in her hair, to hold her head still while he fucked her mouth, but he knew that would be ungentlemanly. _I may not be a gentleman anywhere else but, damn it all, I'll be one here, with her._ Her soft, deft hand fondled his balls and he heard a whimper. _Bloody hell, that was me, wasn't it?_ "Anne … it's been too long, I can't…"

She let him slide out of her mouth but continued to lick and kiss his cock, murmuring, "I don't mind if you come in my mouth, Richard."

"You're certain?"

In reply, she took him into her mouth again, her talented hands and tongue bringing him to the brink before sending him over the edge. He cried out her name as his seed filled her mouth then started to dribble down her chin. Feeling like every ounce of energy he possessed had suddenly left him, he flopped onto the bed as he tried to catch his breath.

He could feel Anne clean him up then she murmured, amused, "I take it you enjoyed that."

Richard chuckled weakly as he looked up at her. "Yes, very much. Too much – I think I'm going to need a nap before we do anything else, and I wanted to return the favor before we speak to the press."

She grinned down at him. "Mmm, that can wait until tonight, when we'll have all the time in the world."

He reached out to take her hand, smiling a bit. "That will be worth dealing with the press for."


End file.
